


Bitty Gets A Boyfriend

by swingandswirl



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Give Bitty Non-Hockey Friends 2k17, If Samwell is one in four, M/M, Meet-Cute, gimme more queer folk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:19:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swingandswirl/pseuds/swingandswirl
Summary: As much as I love Zimbits, I've always thought Bitty deserved a boyfriend while Jack was still pulling his head out of his ass. Enter TJ.





	1. Meet-Cute

**Author's Note:**

> So way back when @airplanesandcookies made [this](https://birlcholtz.tumblr.com/post/164363740850/bittys-fanclub) post about Bitty’s football fan club. And then @birlcholtz talked about Bitty actually dating a football player [here](https://birlcholtz.tumblr.com/post/155502378695/okay-so-i-just-found-airplanesandcookies-post). 
> 
> The two posts kind of… mutated in my head and eventually gave me TJ, SMF’s star QB who has been hopelessly in love with Bitty ever since he passed the Haus one Saturday and saw this hot blond in tiny sexy AF shorts throw an absolute beaut of a pass to his teammate. TJ wants to steal him for the football team, but failing that he’ll settle for a date.

Bitty is walking back down to the Haus when he sees one of the football team - the QB, he thinks - jogging toward him. He freezes, one hand reaching into his pocket for his phone, but then he realises that the other boy is smiling, broad and honest and open, and he’s wearing a ‘Gay Agenda’ t-shirt.

‘Hey, Bittle!’ the QB says as he pulls up next to Bitty, ‘How’s it going, man?’

Bitty manages a smile. ‘Pretty good, thanks. You?’

The QB grins, and oh Lord, he’s even cuter up close, skin somewhere between Nursey and Ransom’s, hair in a messy ponytail, and grey eyes that are looking down at Bitty with something a little like admiration. ‘Still super jealous of that swawesome pass you made, but otherwise I’m good, too.’

Bitty blushes. ‘Aw, it wasn’t nothin’…’ he says, even if he can’t believe he’s getting praised by Samwell’s starting QB.

Who snorts. ‘And I’m a cheerleader, Bittle. You should come to practise one of these days, run a few drills, show the boys how it’s done.’

Bitty is pretty sure his face is on fire. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr…’

The other boy smacks his forehead. ‘Jeez, sorry, I’m an idiot. Tarun Jackson, but most people call me TJ. And you’re…’

‘Eric Bittle,’ Bitty replies, not willing to give a football player his nickname just yet.

TJ’s smile is warm, his handshake firm and not overwhelming, even as the contact sends electricity sparking through Bitty. ‘Nice to meet you, Eric. I’m not keeping you, am I?’

Bitty shakes his head. ‘No, no, I was just on my way home. And it’s nice to meet you too.’

That gets him another brilliant smile as TJ falls into step with him. ‘I was serious about stopping by practise, you know. That was a wicked sweet pass.’

Bitty flushes. ‘Thanks. I appreciate the compliment, I do, but… I don’t really have the best associations with football, and let’s face it, I’m not exactly built like one of you guys, am I?’

TJ shrugs. ‘You’re not built like a stereotypical hockey player, either, and yet you’re on the team. A really good team.’

It…. it actually sounds like a compliment, the way he says it, all warm and sincere with no laughter or mockery. ‘Um, thanks, that’s… I appreciate that.’

TJ arches an eyebrow at him. ‘So how does a good Southern boy - I’m assuming, anyway - wind up playing ice hockey up North?’

Eric laughs. ‘I used to be a figure skater, made it to regionals, even. Then I switched to co-ed hockey, when I was fifteen. Pretty good decision, too, since Samwell offered me a scholarship to come play… what?’ he asks, since TJ is staring at him.

Bitty braces for chirps or worse, but that’s not what comes out of TJ’s mouth at all. He’s looking at him with unabashed awe.

‘You… started playing hockey at fifteen, and a few years later you’re starting on a _D1_ team? Man, that’s awesome. You’re awesome. No, I won’t hear a word otherwise.’

Bitty opens his mouth to argue, but then shuts it, realising that TJ has a point. Everyone on the team has been skating since they were kids. Hell, Jack probably started skating before he could walk. All things considered, he hasn’t done so badly, the checking problem aside. ‘… thank you,’ he says finally.

Then, to get the focus off himself, he asks, ‘So how’d you wind up getting interested in hockey, anyway?’

TJ grins. ‘My mom, she’s from India, she grew up playing field hockey. And then she came to UPenn for grad school and ice hockey was… familiar, I guess? But yeah, I’m a Pens fan born and bred, for all I can’t actually skate for shit.’

Bitty nods. ‘I never watched hockey, growing up… I mean, it’s not like there’s much call for it in Georgia!’ he says, and TJ laughs, too. ‘But I love it. It’s a lot of fun.’

‘It is at that,’ TJ says, and Lord, Bitty could just get lost in those eyes. ‘Oh, hey, before I forget. The other reason I wanted to talk to you. So the Squeezy - the Samwell Queer Collective - they’re having their annual ice-cream social on Friday afternoon, and, well, someone mentioned you were out but I’ve never seen you at any events on campus, and I figured maybe you just didn’t know? So. Um. Yeah. that’s a thing that’s happening and you could come? If you wanted?’

Bitty stares at TJ. It’s… he knows, of course that there are multiple clubs for queer students on campus, that pretty much every letter of the rainbow has events and things all semester, but it’s never quite occurred to him that he, Eric Bittle, could go.

‘You don’t have to, of course,’ TJ says hastily. ‘Like, no pressure, at all. I just thought…’

‘No, no, it’s fine, I just…’ Bitty bites his lip. ‘I… what if I’m not welcome?’

TJ blinks. ‘What? Of course you’ll be welcome. This is Samwell. One in four, remember. Besides, I’ll be there, too. Anyone gives you shit, send ‘em straight to me.’ He bites his lip, looking oddly nervous for a second. ‘We could… I could meet you before, and we could walk down together, if you like?’

Bitty’s jaw almost drops before he pulls himself back together. ‘I would like that, thank you,’ he says, even as he fumbles for his phone, realising as he does that they’re only a couple of feet away from the Haus. ‘Here, let’s get each others numbers.’

He tells TJ his number, and a few seconds later he has a text with a little smiley face and a football emoji.

‘So… I’ll see you Friday?’ Bitty asks, suddenly not wanting this conversation to end even though they’re only yards away from the Haus. ‘And I’ll text you. About meeting, I mean.’

TJ’s smile is both radiant and a little bit shy. He bites his lip, then says, all in a rush, ‘I’m um, really looking forward to it. And, um, texting before. If you want to.’

He shouldn’t be reading too much into it. Even if he really wants to. ‘Sounds like a plan.’ Bitty says, as they approach the Haus. ‘See you around?’

‘Count on it,’ TJ replies, giving him one last gorgeous smile before turning to jog away.

Bitty sits on the stoop, watching him go, trying not to grin like a fool. He’s going to a real live queer event! With a cute boy! Who thinks he’s talented! It’s not a date, sure, but Bitty has a feeling it might lead to one. He hopes so. Even if it doesn’t, he might make some new not-straight friends and that’s enough to almost make him squeal right then. He settles for a tiny jig, so absorbed in happy thoughts that he doesn’t notice Jack watching TJ from his window with a scowl on his face.

 

 


	2. Texting

Bitty doesn’t tell the others about TJ.

It’s not that he’s scared of their reactions… at least, the rational part of Bitty isn’t. But there is a part of him, the part that grew up queer in the South, the part that remembers every sideways look and not-quite-whisper, the part that was shoved into a goddamn closet, that took one look at this pile of big, loud, raucous jocks and wanted to run right back to his Mama’s kitchen… that part’s terrified. Even though he knows it’s stupid.

Really, what’s far likelier is that his friends will be enthusiastic. Far too enthusiastic, if Holster and Ransom’s attempts to find him a date for Spring C was any indication. Or them playing wingman whenever the occasion called for it… and a few when it didn’t.

And the thing is, Bitty’s never had the luxury of a crush that wasn’t either a terrible idea (Ronnie Matthews, back in high school) or just plain DOA (also Ronnie Matthews, once he’d gotten a girlfriend) before. Even leaving aside the infinitesimal chance that any of them weren’t, actually, straight… there was always the fear that someone would find out. Always the fear that worse than the name-calling and the jokes would happen. The fact that this is liberal, safe Samwell, that TJ is (presumably) gay and out, and (hopefully) interested in him… that’s something Bitty wants to enjoy, just for a little bit, without being chirped to high heaven by his well-meaning teammates.

So he contents himself with a little Facebook stalking instead, just to make sure that TJ isn’t secretly a Chad or something.

A quick browse of his Facebook reveals no Chad-like tendencies, but oh man, Bitty is so hosed.

Because not only is TJ six foot three, built like a brick shithouse, and generally sex on legs, he’s also smart, and funny, and sweet, at least if his FB page is anything to go by. He’s got an older brother up at Brown and a twin sister all the way at Berkeley, and he - and Bitty’s little queer Southern heart is going to up and quit on him right now - loves dogs, has three big mutts piled on him, all four of them looking happy as clams.

And he’s from San Francisco - Bitty should introduce him to Chowder so Chris can whine about the lack of In N’ Out to someone who gets it - and Bitty’s not sure whether that’s the best or the absolute worst, because it turns out that TJ? Surfs.

Somewhere in the attic of the Bittle family home in Madison is a box full of VHS tapes filled with old Baywatch - the original series - episodes, ones Bitty watched religiously as a teen. He let his parents think he was watching for Pam Anderson when really? David Chokachi rising out of that pool has been imprinted on Bitty’s brain ever since the first time those opening credits rolled.

All of which to say… TJ slicing through waves twice again as tall as he is like some ocean spirit? Grinning slyly at the camera, surfboard slung over a broad shoulder, board shorts hanging obscenely low off his hips, water sluicing down washboard abs?

Well. Bitty is just very glad that growing up in Georgia means he learned how to be very, very quiet.

*******

One cold shower later, Bitty’s in the kitchen working on some chocolate chip cookies to calm himself down when his phone buzzes with a text.

It’s TJ. Of course it is. Because this is Bitty’s life. At least via text TJ can’t see how red he currently is.

Unlike what the asshole part of Bitty’s brain is telling him, TJ isn’t texting him to cancel, or inform Bitty it was all some big SMF prank - he’s texted him the flier for the ice cream social on Friday. Even if the invitation hadn’t come from a cute guy, Bitty would be sorely tempted - he hasn’t been to one in years, and anyway, even the flyer looks amazing, all bright colours and unabashedly bold design, telling everyone to come by Harrington Hall on Friday afternoon for ice cream and conversation. That TJ promised to be there with Bitty is an unexpected bonus.

Speaking of TJ, Bitty’s phone buzzes again. ‘You really haven’t been to any queer events on campus?’

Bitty resists the urge to send a whole row of eye-roll emojis. ‘Georgia, remember? Some old habits die hard.’

Three blinky dots, and then, ‘I get that. I mean, I was lucky, I grew up in SF and my family’s great, but… you’re not really allowed to be Indian and queer, you know?’

Just like you weren’t allowed to be Southern and queer, at least how Bitty grew up. Well, fuck that.

He says as much, and gets back a series of cry-laughing emojis, followed by a fistbump. ‘Amen, Eric. Amen.’

And just like that, it’s like some kind of damn has broken, and they’re off. It turns out that the Squeezy isn’t the only queer org on campus - there’s also the Samwell Sapphic Sorority, the Trans Collective, the Queer Athletes Association, among others. It is the biggest, though, and it runs the most events - and before Bitty knows it, he and TJ have a sort of loose agreement to go to at least a couple more. Like the showing of Magic Mike that’s happening in a couple of weeks.

And - look, Bitty loves Shitty, okay? He’s awesome, and one of Bitty’s very best friends - but sometimes a boy just wants to flail over Channing Tatum’s sheer hotness without getting derailed into a conversation about the representation of masculinity and the female gaze in Hollywood.

And TJ is just… so easy to talk to. They go from Channing Tatum to a ranking of Marvel’s leading men (Bitty likes the Chrises, TJ is a Hiddleston man through and through), stopping by music (Beyonce is a genius, this is a fact they both agree on) and classes (turns out they share a couple) and Bitty doesn’t even realise how much time is gone until the oven dings and he realises with a jolt that it’s nearly time for class.

He really doesn’t want to go, would rather stay here and text, but… honestly, Bitty doesn’t want this year to be like last year, barely scraping through with Bs and Cs. He wants to do better, be better. So he reluctantly tells TJ he has to go, even as he rustles about putting the cookies away and grabbing his things.

His phone beeps. ‘No worries, man. Talk to you later!’

Bitty grins. Oh, he definitely plans to. Just as he’s already planning to looking at those surfing photos after.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Sorry for the terrible quality, but [ here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PldT2jq7ApM) are the Baywatch opening credits in question. David comes in at about 1:07, and, well, you can see why he makes an impression on Teen!Bitty. (And, if we’re being totally honest, a teen!Tammy. /fans self/)

**Author's Note:**

> woo! at roughly ~1100 words, this is the shortest complete fic I've written in a while!
> 
> In case the fic did not make it clear, Tarun is mixed-race - his grandfather is white, but the rest of his family is Indian. I'm Indian, and part of why I'm writing this series is to give Desi folk better rep than Raj fuckin' Koothura-what's-his-face. 
> 
> Updates will be sporadic, as I'm basically flying by the seat of my pants here. If here's anything specific you want to see, PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Kudos and comments are, as always, appreciated.


End file.
